Masks and Mirrors, Chapter 6 (Part Two)
(Continued from Part One)
A heartbeat of silence.
Two.
What the hell was going on? Was this really Fleur, or someone else impersonating Fleur? Because nothing had struck Tonks as so singularly out of character as Fleur not immediately pouncing on the opportunity to show off her knowledge of information others weren't privy to. The glow of healthy colour drained from Fleur's face, leaving her pale, hopelessly young-looking. Her lips pressed into a thin, white line, she looked almost as ghastly as she had in June, the night Greyback ravaged Bill.
"What...?" Tonks' voice cracked. "What won't hurt?"
And then with a flash, Fleur's eyes were on her, and her face looked more beautiful than Tonks had ever seen, even on her wedding day, for all its fierceness.
"Per'aps zat was a poor choice of words. Eet will 'urt, very much. Een fact eet will break your 'eart."
As if Fleur had performed Legilimency, Tonks felt a connection open between her and the other woman. She knew the depth and height and vehemence of the love she felt for her new husband, because it was the very same love that burned in her own breast. Just as Fleur's outburst of faithfulness in the Hogwarts hospital had compelled Tonks to take hold of Remus' robes, she wove her fingers through his now, and, sitting up a little straighter, threw back her shoulders as Fleur did, ignoring the burning protest in the injured one.
"When we applied to ze Meenistry for our marriage license," said Fleur in a voice so low it was almost guttural, "zere were questions: Eez Bill eenfected weeth lycanthropy? Eez zere a chance 'e carries ze lycanthropy gene and any offspring 'e fathers will be loup garou?
"There is not a lycanthropy gene," said Remus hoarsely. "There is only a lycanthropy curse. Werewolves are made, not born."
He squeezed Tonks' fingers with his own, almost as though to reassure her about their children. She was glad, given the direction Fleur's story seemed likely to go, that he was in a state of mind to think of reassuring her, but didn't he know inherited lycanthropy wasn't one of her concerns?
Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Fleur said, "I told zem I deed not know about Defence Against ze Dark Arts in Eengland, but at Beauxbatons even ze first years know zat only ze bite of a fully transformed loup garou can make anozzer." Her nostrils flared. "But zat Umbridge woman--"
"Umbridge hag," muttered George, who looked like he'd never heard the word wheeze, much less opened a shop to sell them.
"Don't you mean Umbitch?" Fred hissed.
Tonks regarded their hardened faces and saw two young men who wished they'd wreaked more havoc on the Undersecretary to the Minister than a few Wildfire Whiz-bangs and a swamp, and vowed to look the other way if she found them poking about the Ministry to get even with her. Hell -- she had a few bones to pick with Umbridge herself, as well as her own impressive record of an inability to behave.
"...zat Umbridge woman," Fleur repeated, "deed not believe Bill 'as not undergone a transformation. She said eet would be fully een ze nature of a Dark Creature to lie to evade registration, and forced Bill to submit to 'aving a Trace placed on 'im--"
"A TRACE?" cried everyone at once.
"Like the underage magic Trace?" asked Fred.
"To detect whether Bill responds to the full moon?" George said.
"That's illegal!" said Tonks.
"Impossible," Remus said, letting go of her hand as he gave his a dismissive wave. "They cannot understand enough of werewolf magic to detect the moon's effect. Perhaps if there had been more research, but so little scholarship exists..."
He talked on, but Tonks ceased to hear distinct words as a roar took up residence in her ears. If Bill Weasley -- Hogwarts Head Boy, Gringott's curse-breaker, then husband-to-be of a Triwizard Champion, in short, model Wizarding citizen -- could have his rights run roughshod over, then it was a bad sign of what was brewing at the heart of the Ministry.
Worse, Tonks felt completely blindsided, as if she'd been so caught up in an exciting Quidditch match that she hadn't seen the Bludger coming till it smacked her in the face and knocked her off her broomstick, sending her spiralling toward the hard ground...Or like she'd stepped onto a cursed staircase that crumbled beneath her feet...Which was a completely stupid and unnecessary way to feel as Remus had used "the Ministry will never allow me to marry" as one of his reasons to break off their almost-engagement last summer; and she herself had asked him at their reconciliation whether she could count on him to stay even if the Ministry did try to stand between them. He had reassured her at the time, though now she wished he had given her a definitive answer than if that happened, he wouldn't encourage her to seek love from another man.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her conscience lit into her like a Howler. What kind of Hufflepuff was she? How could she be so disloyal? Bill and Fleur had got married, hadn't they? That meant there was a loophole.
She was about to ask what it was, when Remus beat her to it.
"Four nights from now will be the first full moon since you applied for your marriage licence. How in the world did you convince them to issue you one before they had their so-called proof of Bill's blood status?"
"Amos Diggory," said Fleur.
"Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came into it?" Tonks asked, shocked again, though she reckoned she oughtn't be at this point. God, how humiliating for Bill...for Remus...She still couldn't look at him...
"Meester Diggory vouched for Bill's character, and shut Umbridge up by saying 'e was sure Bill would be found truthful eef 'e were admeenistered Veritaserum."
"Which I'm sure she didn't rush to do," George said.
"Even though she didn't think twice about using it on kids," Fred muttered.
"Prejudiced great bully," spat George.
"Bitch," his twin said again, slapping his wand against his open palm.
"Of course she deedn't," said Fleur, meeting Fred's eye as if to ask permission to be a part of whatever revenge idea was forming in his brain. "And of course she 'ad ze last word as well, zat my Veela blood brings my 'uman status into question as well, and my marriage to Bill might find me standing trial for violating ze Ban on Experimental Breeding."
A tremor began in the pit of Tonks' stomach, which had balled into such a hard knot she doubted its ever loosening again. That bitch. That bigoted, bullfrog-faced bitch!
This was bad. This was very very bad. Fleur was not the first Magical Being whose humanity Dolores Umbridge had questioned. Umbridge had once intimated as much to Tonks that Metamorphmagi were not fully human, either; though she hadn't said in so many words, her belief clearly echoed what Walburga Black's portrait shrieked every time Tonks woke her by tripping over that dratted troll-foot umbrella stand at Grimmauld Place: shape-shifting freak. Tonks had been right pissed off, of course, but mainly because Umbridge had said it to ensure Tonks' compliance with a dress code for Ministry employees, which included a ban on "unnatural" hair colours. Somehow, it had never entered Tonks' wildest nightmares that her humanity might actually be called into question by the very government that employed her. She couldn't work out whether it was better or worse for her and Remus if they were both marked as undesirable species.
"No fear, Fleur," said George, slinging an arm around his sister-in-law's slim shoulders. "Umbridge'll never get anti-Veela legislation past all those male bureaucrats."
"Randy lot," Fred added, catching her round the waist. "Always thinking with organs situated rather far south of their brains."
Fleur tilted her chin upward at this, her haughty smile curving her lips.
"In that case," said Tonks, "maybe I really ought to start masquerading as your twin, Fleur. Metamorphmagi might be less suspect if we appear to be dazzlingly beautiful."
The twins supported the idea noisily, but Remus merely gave a short, grim chuckle.
"Remus," George stage-whispered, hands cupped around his mouth. "That'd be where you earn points by saying, 'You're always dazzlingly beautiful, my darling Dora'."
"You might delay patenting your Cupboard Casanova," Remus returned without missing the beat, "if you think darling's an endearment that'll earn points."
"Eef you weesh to be properly married..." said Fleur loudly (she had been looking a bit perturbed since Tonks joked about morphing like her, which made Tonks feel a little better in the midst of everything) "...zen you 'ad better do eet queekly. Meester Diggory 'as been leestening for developments, and 'e 'as seen and 'eard reports of Umbridge meeting weeth various members of Werewolf Support Services, as well as..." Her long white throat bobbed again as she glanced across the bed at Remus. "...ze Capture Unit."
Bloody hell...If that was true...It made Tonks' head spin as if she were making a Floo call to think how quickly Umbridge would institute a ban on werewolf marriage if Remus applied for a license. She clutched at her sheets, as if to physically steady herself.
"I think I might be partially to blame," she said, her own voice sounding small and distant to her ears. "I haven't been quiet about our engagement. The whole Auror office knows..."
Remus caught her hand nearest to him, prising the sweat-dampened, crumpled sheet from her grip, and kissed her knuckles.
"Nor should you have kept quiet," he said, "You have just as much right as any witch to celebrate your engagement with your colleagues."
But he spoke with a raw quality that undermined his assuring touch, making Tonks wonder whether he really believed his own words.
"Eet eez lucky you 'ave spoken of marrying soon, no?" said Fleur, cheerfully.
"Very," said Remus.
Tonks felt his gaze on her, but she could not lift her eyes to meet it.
"You could elope," George suggested. "The officiates at Gretna Green never check registries and have a strict don't ask, don't tell policy. You say 'I do,' you're bonded, and the Ministry can't do a bloody thing about it."
"'ow do you know about marriage policies in Gretna Green?" asked Fleur, and George cleared his throat and tugged at the long hair at his nape as his twin smirked.
There was a damn good story in that, but Tonks wasn't in the mood for it.
"No, the Ministry can't do a bloody thing," she said. "Only arrest you and the person who married you on the charge of circumventing the law."
A moment of thick silence followed, which George broke again by asking, "Can you be convicted for pre-emptively circumventing a law?"
Of course you could, with a government like theirs was apparently turning out to be. Tonks kept the thought to herself, though, knowing it went without saying, especially to Remus.
Except that Remus laughed.
And gave a little round of applause.
"The logic of a true Marauder," he said, extending one hand to shake George's.
"By George, George!" said Fred suddenly, as if he'd been in his own world for some time. "I think you're on to a new business model."
George met his twin's eyes with a gleam.
"Weasleys' Wizard Weddings!" they cried together.
"Only you'd never keep afloat," came a jocular voice that had not previously been a part of the conversation.
They all turned to see Bill stood casually in the opening between the curtains, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tatty jeans -- he must have the day off from Gringotts -- Ginny and Molly peering around his athletic frame. Shrieking his name, Fleur leapt up from her chair, threw herself into his arms, and, slipping her hands inside his dragonhide jacket, stretched up to kiss him.
"One wedding," Bill went on, as Fleur kissed his neck, "then word would get out about the bridal cake laced with U No Poo, and you'd never get another request. Or would the Wheeze be worth a one-off?"
"For the millionth time--" cried Fred.
"--that wasn't us!" George finished.
"Wish it had been--"
"--but it wasn't!"
"It's ridiculous to lie about it," said Molly, pushing her way past Bill into the midst of the group (somehow managing as she did so to dislodge Fleur from his arms, putting a stop to her kissing his pierced earlobe). "It doesn't take a person with a complete set of owls to know the pair of you are guilty as sin."
Tonks glimpsed Ginny sniggering behind her hand, but also caught her darting her eyes almost guiltily at her twin brothers, which made her wonder if they weren't telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help them Merlin, after all.
Molly went on about how after all this time they would feel an ounce of remorse, and if they still lived under her roof she'd turn them over her knee before turning them out, which made them even more vehement in their protests, especially as Fleur turned on them, her temper now channelled into the state of newlywed constipation she'd found herself in the morning after her wedding. Remus unhelpfully told no one in particular (and irritated everyone) that he had been spared that fate by only eating the groom's chocolate cake.
"Anyway, Remus and Tonks can't elope," Molly brought the conversation full-circle. "I'm sure her parents want to have a big proper wedding for them, and Tonks, dear, I gave your mother the names of all the people we used -- only I think you may have to book another band, as they told me I was very lucky to get them less than a year in advance."
"I was hoping to get the Weird Sisters, anyway," said Tonks.
"Elopement sounds better all the time," said Remus with a mock-grimace that matched Molly's genuine one.
Squeezing Tonks' hand before releasing it, he rose from his chair and wove his way between the visitors to approach Bill.
"A word, Bill?" he asked quietly, his face grave as they shook hands.
Everyone paired up, Bill and Remus talking in hushed tones, presumably about the escalating anti-werewolf sentiment; the twins, flitting between animated plotting about Weasleys' Wizard Weddings and giving Umbridge her just desserts; Molly and Fleur about weddings, apparently forgetting all about Tonks as Fleur took out her album again.
"'Lo, Tonks," said Ginny, approaching. She fished in her pocket and took out a bag of Chocoballs. "Brought you these."
"Ta." Tonks hesitated before accepting them. "They're not laced with U No Poo, are they?"
"I wouldn't do that to you in hospital." Ginny's grin faded. "It really stinks about your leg. Are you really not allowed to morph?"
"Pink's not my natural colour, you know."
Ginny's eyebrows buckled as her forehead creased. "You're not pink."
"What?"
Tonks scrabbled for her makeup bag in the bedside table and struggled to flip her compact open with her shaking hands. When she finally managed it, she saw her reflection and cursed.
In her peripheral, she saw Remus' eyes drift from Bill to her. She scrunched up her nose, and her lank brown hair bloomed pink and stood on end again.
"So..." she said as brightly as she could to Ginny whilst wondering when the hell during the talk with Fleur she'd lost her morph, and trying to recall Remus' facial expressions throughout in case he'd reacted. Unfortunately, she hadn't looked at him much. "Fleur says you're off school shopping after this?"
"Yeah."
"You don't like school shopping?"
"Not with Mum treating me like I'm three and Phlegm--" Ginny caught herself, and, clearly making a concerted effort at being nice to the witch who'd proved to have more depth than she imagined, said, "It's more fun with Ron and Hermione...and Harry, too," she added, quickly. Too quickly.
"Especially Harry," Tonks couldn't resist saying.
Colouring, Ginny gave a little smile, then said, "Hermione said to say hi, by the way, and they'll come to see you if she can work out a way around the Age Line Mum did to keep that lot from sneaking out the house."
"Hermione's clever," whispered George, "but Fred and I tried everything known to Wizardkind to get past the one to the Goblet of Fire, and if we can't--"
"Dumbledore's Age Lines and Mum's are hardly the same thing, don't you think?" Ginny argued, effectively shutting the twins up.
"Hermione's turning into a right rebel, isn't she?" said Tonks.
"Well it is rather a prerequisite for joining the Order," said Ginny.
"That it is."
Tonks knew from the almost hungry look in Ginny's eyes what this was working up to. The teenager knew what she wanted and had planned and carefully rehearsed that speech. Which meant Tonks had to think much faster on her feet than was right for a person taking as many pain potions as she was.
"Look, Ginny," she said with a sigh, "I'm not a mum, so I'm not going to tell yours she should let you drop out of school and join--"
"I'll go to school!" Ginny cut in. "It's just...Well, if sodding Malfoy can go to school and be a Death Eater, shouldn't we try and even up the sides?"
Though Tonks saw her teenaged self in Ginny, and actually quite agreed with the sentiment, at least on the raw emotional level, she said, "If Malfoy turns up at Platform Nine and Three-quarters on the first of September, you can bet your buttocks the Aurors'll be escorting him to Azkaban for the rest of his education."
For the first time, she was thankful to see Healer Pye striding through the ward, whistling, as he'd saved her from the rock and a hard place Ginny had put her in. Even more wonderfully, she didn't have to eat humble pie, as she would get the satisfaction of feasting on the image of him falling victim to a Weasley Wheeze with a side of Moony Mischief.
Not that humble was exactly the operative word when Pye was stopping at the doorway, chest puffed out as he buffed his Internospecs on the lapel of his lime green robes, and doing his best to give Percy Weasley a run for his money for Bighead Bastard, First Class.
"Well, well," he said. "If it isn't practically the entire Weasley family."
"It isn't," said Bill, looking as unimpressed as Tonks imagined he would if it actually was Percy who'd just come in. "It's only practically half the Weasley family."
"Which you'd know if you were old enough to actually have delivered any of the Weasley family," Molly added.
Pye's smug smile became wooden as he quickly put on his Internospecs and gestured for Ginny to step aside from Tonks' bed so the Healer could do his work. "Let's have a look at that knee, shall we?"
As he drew the blankets back, he glanced over his shoulder at Molly. Tonks guessed he missed twins exchange the glance of two people responsible for a man's impending doom as he said, "Though I am terribly sorry it comes at your expense, Miss Tonks, I cannot say that I am not most pleased for this opportunity to set the record straight for Mrs. Weasley about my qualifications--Oh dear God!"
He nearly lost his Internospecs in the process of jerking erect and backing into Remus, apparently startled by the sight of Tonks' knee.
Remus laid a hand on Pye's shoulder, which made him jump again, and spoke in the perfect concerned tone a witch's fiancé ought to have in such a situation. "Oh dear God what?"
"N-n-n..." Pye shook his head vigorously. "N-nothing wrong."
He rubbed the Internospecs on his robes, held them up to the light to inspect the lenses, put them on again, blinked, then, drawing a deep breath, bent over Tonks once more.
"Working back-to-back shifts," he said, "as Healers do, often has the affect of making one see--BLOODY HELL!"
He recoiled, this time ripping off the Internospects of his own volition and flinging them away as if through them he'd viewed the stuff of his worst nightmares.
"What's wrong with my knee?" Tonks shouted in the best panicky voice she could muster even though she thought she might die from trying not to laugh.
Molly didn't help matters any by pushing her way to the front of the group, hands fisted on her ample hips, face red as her hair and her eyes flashing, pinning Pye as surely as she'd cast Petrificus Totalis on him. "What in Merlin's name of you done to this poor girl?"
"I did-d-dunno!"
"I say," said Remus, who, Tonks saw on looking up, had retrieved the Internospecs and donned them to take a look at her knee himself, "I'm no expert, but isn't that a Hippogriff patella?"
Molly roared. "YOU'VE MUTATED TONKS' KNEE?"
She lunged toward Pye, as if to grab him by his robes, but he jumped backward from her.
"Nn-o! I-I-I m-mean, it ap-ap-ap-pears--"
"It was that physio...physiothingy--"
"Physical therapy--"
"DON'T INTERRUPT ME! Your Muggle medical nonsense is responsible, isn't it?"
"No!"
"ISN'T IT?"
CRASH.
Molly had, quite literally, backed Healer Pye into a corner. Which, in this case, happened to be the corner of a bedside table where Remus had placed his vase of gerberas. Only now they were on the floor, water, shattered green glass, and a rainbow of petals littering the white marble tiles.
"Why of all the clumsy--!" Molly gave her wand a flick. "Evanesco!"
Biting her lip, Tonks glanced up at Remus for his reaction to the destruction of his second attempt at bringing her flowers. He'd removed the Internospecs, and she saw his eyelids squeeze shut briefly before they snapped open again at the sound of a strangled wail emanating from Pye's throat.
"Oh God!" His legs buckled, but fortunately Remus reacted quickly and nudged a chair under him so that Pye collapsed onto it. "It never occurred to me that physical therapy might lead to spontaneous shifts in M-m-m-meta-m-m-m--"
"Metamorphosing?" Tonks supplied.
"Yes."
"You can just say morphing," she said. "S'a lot easier."
But somehow, her compassion only seemed to heighten Pye's distress. "I never thought to factor in your emotional state, even though your parents and Mr. Lupin mentioned in your medical history that it affected your morphing...Oh, God!" He covered his face with his hands and began to shake. "I shall be sacked! I should have gone into Muggle medicine, like my gran wanted me to. Too fickle, Magical healing, she always said--"
"Great Merlin!" cried Molly, her plump features etched with warring disgust and sorrow. "How can you be worried about your career when you've cost this young woman hers?"
She flew to Tonks side, rather roughly sliding an arm around her shoulders, making her wince as she squeezed her close.
"She's an Auror!" Molly carried on. "At a time like this, we can't have enough good Aurors! And she's going to be married!"
Even if Pye had not broken down sobbing, Tonks would have taken pity on him.
"You haven't ruined my career, Augustus," she said.
"Oh, Tonks," said Molly, eyes brimming. "You're the most forgiving person I've ever known, but--"
"Lads?" Tonks said over her, looking at the twins, who were shaking hands and clapping shoulders and congratulating one another. "Jig's up. Remus, please give the man his Internospecs."
Pye's blotchy, tear-stained face peered from between his hands. "I beg your pardon," he said, sniffling. "Did you just say jig?"
"Put those Internospecs on and have a look at your own knee," Tonks said.
Pye obeyed.
His fair eyebrows twitched together above the rims in clear confusion.
His mouth fell open.
His head snapped up. "I've got a bloody Hippogriff's knee, too!"
Face reddening, he whipped off the Internospecs and leapt rather clumsily to his feet, narrowly avoiding knocking over Fleur's carnations. "Miss Tonks, that is the nastiest trick--"
"It wasn't Tonks," Remus interrupted quietly.
Missing the way Remus' head hung a little, his eyes peering sheepishly out from under his fringe, Molly's hands fell away from Tonks and flew once again to her hips. "FRED!"
"He's Fred!" said George.
"GEORGE!"
"He's George!" said Fred. "Won't you ever learn, woman?"
"You ought to be shouting my name as well," said Remus, reaching out as if to hold Molly back from physically attacking her sons.
"You don't have to stand up for them, Remus." She shrugged him off and bore down on them, seeming to tower over them even though they were a full head taller. "They're grown wizards. Businesswizards. They can look out for themselves."
"Yeah," said George with bravado, even though he was backing away from his mother. It was a good job there were no tables of flowers behind. "You were just the diversion anyway, Remus."
"And right now," Fred added, side-stepping Fleur, shoving her between his mother and himself as he and George made for the gap in the curtains, "we hope you'll divert Mum from our exit."
"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE! I'M STILL YOUR MOTHER, AND I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU! IN FACT, I'M ONLY JUST GETTING START--"
"Silencio!" said Pye.
The words hung, muted, in Molly's wide-open mouth.
Ginny, who'd been watching the whole scene through eyes three-quarters of the way closed in laughter, snorted, earning a baleful look from Molly, though doubled over as she was, Tonks doubted Ginny saw it.
"Your twins," said Pye to Molly, tugging on his lapels, "are hereby banned from darkening the door of this institution, except in the case of personal injury, and if you wish to continue to visit Miss Tonks during her stay here, you will please lower your voice and be mindful that she is not the only patient here."
Molly's mouth formed the shapes of words which, uttered aloud, Tonks suspected would have been neither low-toned or mindful of anyone, especially those who were offended by certain language. Producing no sound, Molly wilted and gave a slow, nod of begrudging consent.
"Right," said Pye, and gave his wand a flick. After Molly squeaked out an apology for the twins' prank, and he bestowed his forgiveness on her with a pompous comment that he was found of a bit of scullduggery himself and liked the Muggle magic tricks the twins sold at their shop, and therefore thought them decent chaps, even if they were Hogwarts drop-outs, then excused himself to fetch his real Internospecs which, Remus informed him, were in his office.
"And to change his underpants," said Ginny when Pye had gone, "as he wet himself."
"Ginny!" Molly shrieked. "What's got into you?" She turned on Remus, wagging her index finger. "And you! Were you really in on that?"
"I was."
Looking faintly pale, Molly clutched at her hair. "I thought you were sensible."
Remus smiled and seemed about to speak, when Bill, perched on the arm of a chair with Fleur sat on his lap, one freckled arm slung around her waist, said, "Haven't you heard the Boggart story, Mum?"
Tonks had heard the anecdote a million times since Remus told it to her on their first date, and had never imagined a day would come that she would not laugh her head off. Today, however, she found the story had lost a great deal of its lustre in light of certain actions carried out by one of the central characters. If she wasn't reading too much in to Remus' slightly tight voice and smile as he told it now, he shared her feeling.
Even though Dumbledore had left the Order a Pensieve containing a few silver strands of memory that proved Snape had acted on orders from Dumbledore (though not, in any way, enough pieces of the puzzle for the Order to discern Dumbledore's plan) it was too easy to believe that the man who had never shown an ounce of love for the Order, it's Cause, or even its leader, had been able to carry out his duty specifically because of the malice polluting his heart. If he had a heart at all. It seemed impossible that that could have been the only way...
She wished Dumbledore had felt at liberty to confide in one other member, at least. Looking at Remus, his face lined with conflict as he made light conversation with the Weasleys, Tonks hoped he would not have to make the same decisions Dumbledore had been forced to make for the greater good, and if he did, she hoped he would lean on her, and not try to shoulder the burden alone -- as her hospitalisation had forced him to do this week.
As if she weren't already painfully aware of the totally crap timing of her accident, Healer Pye returned. The Weasleys said their goodbyes, Molly promising they'd get their heart-to-heart soon, though casting Pye a look which said she wasn't keen to set herself up for another encounter with him. Tonks, of course, ached at the prospect of not having that opportunity with Molly in the next day or two, though it was far outweighed by her yearning for a heart-to-heart with Remus.
Right now.
They hadn't time to waste. They had so much work to do. Making contact with Snape must be the Order's new priority, and Tonks had to convince Remus, now in spite of the grim prognosis for her morphing, that she was the witch for the job.
At the very least, they needed to sort this wedding business out once and for all. It seemed more urgent as she watched minute after minute tick by on her Weird Sisters cuckoo clock as Remus chatted pleasantly with Pye, apparently in no hurry at all for the examination to end so he could have alone time with her. He must not feel what she felt...The news from Fleur must have given him second thoughts...
She was being stupid, she told herself savagely. Not least of all because with their history, it would have to be a lot higher number than second thoughts. And also because Remus was just being nice. This was completely normal behaviour for him when atoning for a bit of mischief; he was letting Pye feel buttered up when really Remus was laughing at the Healer's pompousness. He was just doing it because he was Remus, not because he was trying to distract her from serious matters, but because he really did believe laughter was the best medicine. That was all.
She convinced herself of this--
--until she actually found herself alone with Remus.
"Well," he said, smiling mildly down at her as he stood beside her bed, hands clasped behind his back. "The spells for your knee seem straight-forward enough, and I have always been a dab hand at healing magic."
"Don't see why I've got to spend three bloody more days here when you can look after me now. Pye's hardly doing more, except for annoying me."
"He is also giving you pain potions which would be highly illegal for me to administer to you at home." Remus' gaze drifted from her to the drawn curtains of her little room as he raked a hand through his thick, greying hair. "I'm sorry our little prank got Fred and George banned from visiting again."
"Doubt they'd have had time anyway," said Tonks with a shrug. "Hard to get away from the shop. Everyone's got too much to do without giving up precious time coming to hospital."
Remus' brow furrowed as he seated himself at her bedside. "I've done nearly all I can for now, so I really do anticipate being able to spend a great deal more time here, with you."
Tonks sighed. Of course he'd taken her complaints as criticism of him, when really she'd just been trying, awkwardly, to broach important matters.
"Maybe we ought to owl one of those officiates from Gretna about coming down and marrying us, then."
Remus blinked, and Tonks squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth against a few unladylike words. "I'm sorry, Remus, I didn't mean--"
"It's okay," he said, taking her hand. "Fleur has a way of pounding ideas into a person's head. And...I'm not opposed to the idea of marrying you soon, you know."
Tonks gawped. "Really?"
She silently cursed herself again for voicing her astonishment. It would make him feel even worse, make him think she didn't trust him...
But his mouth curved into his sexy, lopsided grin as he leant toward her, fringe falling over his forehead. "Well, I don't like the thought of marrying you right here with you in a bed I can't share on our wedding night..."
He brushed his lips to hers, and Tonks felt heat crackling in the little space between them at the thought of their wedding night...Or any night with him...God, she thought as his fingers trailed over her neck, cupping her cheek, it had been much too long. Why couldn't he share this bed with her? There wasn't a reason in the world why they couldn't do a few useful little spells and practice their wedding night right now...
As if he'd read her thoughts, Remus broke away. The tension remained, though it shifted from the sexy kind to the serious kind.
"It does rather seem that we have little choice but to act before Umbridge does, or wait for a change in the political climate," Remus said. He paused, eyes darkening as the lines of his face hardened, then he added, "Which I would be willing to do, as marrying me could make things hairy for you at the Ministry."
Tonks started to argue that she wouldn't be willing, that she wanted him and not the damn Ministry, when the protest died on her tongue.
Remus wasn't just trying to protect her from losing the job she'd worked so hard for; the Order needed her at the Ministry, especially in the current political climate which, if Umbridge did get her way, was frighteningly in line with Voldemort's philosophies.
Sinking back against her pillows, suddenly bone-tired, Tonks' stomach churned with the idea that this concept of a greater good seemed determined to disrupt her life even though Remus wasn't acting the part of the noble prat. If a little more love in the world were necessary for achieving the greater good, why didn't the greater good help them out a bit by fostering their relationship?
"I can't believe Bill didn't say anything to us sooner," she mused. "We might be married already, instead of considering a quickie ceremony in hospital..."
"Our friends, it seems, are quite as protective of our relationship as I am of you."
The rueful, almost bitter, smile he wore chilled Tonks to the core. No -- Remus couldn't go there. She'd fought too hard to bring him back from that awful place of shame and failure Dumbledore had, unintentionally, sent him to when he asked him to go underground. No way in hell was he going back there again. Not if she had anything to say about it.
"I'm sure he was thinking more about not worrying Molly than--" She caught herself, not knowing how to continue, but Remus spoke for her:
"Than about fearing I would leave you again if I knew how bad things looked for us?"
Tonks' eyes flicked down to her lap as hot colour flooded her face.
"What else am I to think?" he asked. "Fleur intimated as much, and Bill said he'd meant to tell me when I didn't have so much on my mind."
"I'm sure he meant your Order responsibilities," Tonks said, though without much conviction, hating the thought that Remus had been made to feel like an deviant youth whom everyone feared would go astray again, like a prisoner who must be watched carefully, with suspicion, until he proved himself reformed and trustworthy. It was bad enough that he sensed her doubts and insecurities; this was nothing to do with anyone else.
"Of course he did," said Remus, heavily, though in a voice closer to his usual mild tones. "I know we have all our friends' full support, and none of them means anything malicious by holding their breaths till I've actually got a wedding ring on my finger, but..." He sighed. "My Order responsibilities are part of the problem."
Feeling a bit like she'd missed a crucial bit of his train of thought, Tonks asked, "The problem?"
Clutching her hand in both of his, Remus sat hunched in his chair, looking her fully in the eyes so that she could see he had much to say to her, and sincerely wanted to say it.
But he didn't say a thing.
Nor, after a full minute had passed during which the air in the room became more stifling with every tick of the clock, did he seem like he was going to any time soon.
"Remus..." She shifted so that she could touch his face with her other hand. "Talk to me. Please."
"I..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Dora, I don't think I can--"
"Remus?" came a third, muffled voice.
Remus jumped, and Tonks said, "What the...?" but stopped when he drew his two-way mirror out of his pocket.
"Harry," he said, very quietly, getting up. "One moment."
With his wand, he drew the curtains closed, cast a Muffliato, then settled on the bed, close beside Tonks so that she could see the mirror cupped in his palm.
"Sorry," Remus told the young man. "I'm at St. Mungo's with Tonks."
"Wotcher, Harry."
"Hi," said Harry, colouring a little at the sight of her and glancing at Remus. "I, um, didn't mean to, er, interrupt...or anything..."
"Not at all," said Remus, smiling kindly. "What can I do for you?"
Harry licked his lips, hesitating. Tonks recognised the look on his face of as uncertainty whether he could say what he wished to say.
Remus, apparently, did, too. "It's all right -- I will not ask for more information than you offer."
"Oh, it's just I wondered if you knew someone," said Harry, attempting, but not quite managing, to sound casual. He shrugged, his shoulders moving as if he'd shoved a hand into his pocket. "Do the initials R.A.B. ring a bell?"
"R.A.B?" Remus repeated.
"Rodolphus And Bellatrix," Tonks threw out, then began a run-down of all the B surnames she knew, starting with the Ministry employee roster. "Bagman, Bones, Bode--Stupid!" She smacked herself in the forehead, startling Remus and Harry. "Bloody pain potions. Black always tops the Ministry name game."
"Regulus," said Remus. "Regulus Arcturus Black."
"Sirius' brother?" Harry asked. "The one who deserted the Death Eaters and--?"
"Was killed, yes," said Remus.
"He fits!" cried Harry, looking as if a Lumos charm had just gone off in his head. The view of the Burrow in the background shifted as he turned, presumably toward Ron and Hermione.
"What does Regulus fit?" Tonks blurted.
"Dora," said Remus, touching her arm.
Harry gave him an apologetic look, or at least that was Tonks' best guess with his image bobbing up and down in the mirror as he ran about the house. "Sorry, I can't talk about it right now. We've got to get to Grimmauld Place."
"Harry, the Age Line!" came Hermione's voice.
Stopping short, flailing as the lanky form of Ron, at his heels, collided with his back, Harry swore.
"Even if you could get out," said Remus, "you couldn't get into Grimmauld Place."
"Why the hell not?" asked Ron, looming over Harry to peer into the mirror.
Remus explained how, when Dumbledore died, the Fidelus Charm passed into Aberforth's keeping, and until he granted entrance to the Order again, none of them could enter Headquarters."
"Not even Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, he does own the hellhole."
"Not even Harry," said Remus. Running a hand over his stubbled chin, he said, "It's one of the many frustrations I've had this week. Aberforth is grieving his brother, despairing for the Order's future, and fearful of a plot against his own life, should anyone discover he is our Secret-Keeper. I'll talk to him again, Harry, if you think there's something you need in Headquarters, but we did clean it out pretty thoroughly after Sirius--"
"You wouldn't have cleaned this out," said Harry.
"Yeah," said Ron. "You lot pitched it into the rubbish--"
"RONALD!" Hermione shouted, as Harry's elbow rammed Ron in the ribs.
"All right," said Remus. "I--"
"While you're throwing your Order leader weight around," said Ron, snatching the mirror from Harry, "talking goat-loving barmen into letting the Chosen One into his own bloody house, could you have a word with a red-headed female member about not treating certain other Order members like children just because they're her children -- especially the ones that aren't actually her children?"
Grinning at Tonks, Remus said, "I think I followed that."
"Even better," said Ron, "just pop over and get us across the Age Line. We can leave with anyone over forty."
Remus gave a snort of mild irritation. "I hate to break it to you, Ron, but I'm a mere thirty-seven."
"Bloody..." Ron went red and thrust the mirror into Harry's hands again.
"So," said Harry, scratching his head where the hair stuck up in back, looking a little uncomfortable. Tonks wondered if he had ever been quite aware of Remus' and Sirius' ages. "You'll speak to Aberforth and Mrs. Weasley, then?"
Remus nodded. "I take it that it is imperative I do so immediately?"
Harry's green eyes flicked guiltily to Tonks. "It'll take us one step closer to Voldemort."
"He'll be right with you, Harry," said Tonks, nudging Remus. "Go on, then."
The mirror had returned to normal, reflecting Remus' lined face. He looked as if it pained him to leave as much as she hurt to have him leave again, without her. She thought he might look as if he didn't really want to go, and wished he didn't have to. He didn't look like he had the energy to do battle with Molly and Aberforth.
"Dora, I'm sorry," he said, leaning in to kiss her.
Despite the longing she felt in him, answered in her own body, as his lips melted against hers, Tonks restrained herself and only returned the kiss with a lpeck, then drew back, giving him another light shove. "Don't apologise, you noble great prat. Just go. Harry Potter needs you."
"I'll keep in touch," he said, pressing his mirror into her hands.
"Be sure to pick up your potion before Mr. Yuhong closes shop," she called as he slipped through the curtains.
Then he was gone, and Tonks was left to wonder alone what was going to bring them one step closer to victory over Voldemort.
Only instead, she wondered what on earth Remus had been about to say he didn't think he could do.
She was drifting off to sleep that night when Remus contacted her. His face, which seemed to have aged years in the hours since his hasty departure, made her gasp, but she stopped herself from asking whether he'd remembered his potion, because she knew he'd forgone it to help Harry, knew, from his bright and alert eyes that something had happened to push all memory of lycanthropy and potions clean out of his head.
"I can't talk long, Dora," he said. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go on the road."
"Where?"
"I'll explain everything in due course," he said. "It's all so extraordinary... You'll never believe..."
"What?"
"Well, all right," said Remus willingly -- eagerly. "The gist of it is: before Regulus deserted, he discovered the secret of Voldemort's immortality."
"Merlin's balls!"
"And according to Kreacher," he continued, "Regulus...did not die."
To be continued...
A/N: I'd love to know what you think of this chapter, and as incentive to review (and in a plea to you not to kill me for that evil cliffie), I offer a visit from your choice of Remus: Romantic Remus, who comes bearing flowers; Marauder Remus, who billed the flowers to someone else and plans to entertain you with a prank; or Sex God Remus, who knows what to do in a hospital bed...
Chapter Index
A heartbeat of silence.
Two.
What the hell was going on? Was this really Fleur, or someone else impersonating Fleur? Because nothing had struck Tonks as so singularly out of character as Fleur not immediately pouncing on the opportunity to show off her knowledge of information others weren't privy to. The glow of healthy colour drained from Fleur's face, leaving her pale, hopelessly young-looking. Her lips pressed into a thin, white line, she looked almost as ghastly as she had in June, the night Greyback ravaged Bill.
"What...?" Tonks' voice cracked. "What won't hurt?"
And then with a flash, Fleur's eyes were on her, and her face looked more beautiful than Tonks had ever seen, even on her wedding day, for all its fierceness.
"Per'aps zat was a poor choice of words. Eet will 'urt, very much. Een fact eet will break your 'eart."
As if Fleur had performed Legilimency, Tonks felt a connection open between her and the other woman. She knew the depth and height and vehemence of the love she felt for her new husband, because it was the very same love that burned in her own breast. Just as Fleur's outburst of faithfulness in the Hogwarts hospital had compelled Tonks to take hold of Remus' robes, she wove her fingers through his now, and, sitting up a little straighter, threw back her shoulders as Fleur did, ignoring the burning protest in the injured one.
"When we applied to ze Meenistry for our marriage license," said Fleur in a voice so low it was almost guttural, "zere were questions: Eez Bill eenfected weeth lycanthropy? Eez zere a chance 'e carries ze lycanthropy gene and any offspring 'e fathers will be loup garou?
"There is not a lycanthropy gene," said Remus hoarsely. "There is only a lycanthropy curse. Werewolves are made, not born."
He squeezed Tonks' fingers with his own, almost as though to reassure her about their children. She was glad, given the direction Fleur's story seemed likely to go, that he was in a state of mind to think of reassuring her, but didn't he know inherited lycanthropy wasn't one of her concerns?
Flicking her hair over her shoulder, Fleur said, "I told zem I deed not know about Defence Against ze Dark Arts in Eengland, but at Beauxbatons even ze first years know zat only ze bite of a fully transformed loup garou can make anozzer." Her nostrils flared. "But zat Umbridge woman--"
"Umbridge hag," muttered George, who looked like he'd never heard the word wheeze, much less opened a shop to sell them.
"Don't you mean Umbitch?" Fred hissed.
Tonks regarded their hardened faces and saw two young men who wished they'd wreaked more havoc on the Undersecretary to the Minister than a few Wildfire Whiz-bangs and a swamp, and vowed to look the other way if she found them poking about the Ministry to get even with her. Hell -- she had a few bones to pick with Umbridge herself, as well as her own impressive record of an inability to behave.
"...zat Umbridge woman," Fleur repeated, "deed not believe Bill 'as not undergone a transformation. She said eet would be fully een ze nature of a Dark Creature to lie to evade registration, and forced Bill to submit to 'aving a Trace placed on 'im--"
"A TRACE?" cried everyone at once.
"Like the underage magic Trace?" asked Fred.
"To detect whether Bill responds to the full moon?" George said.
"That's illegal!" said Tonks.
"Impossible," Remus said, letting go of her hand as he gave his a dismissive wave. "They cannot understand enough of werewolf magic to detect the moon's effect. Perhaps if there had been more research, but so little scholarship exists..."
He talked on, but Tonks ceased to hear distinct words as a roar took up residence in her ears. If Bill Weasley -- Hogwarts Head Boy, Gringott's curse-breaker, then husband-to-be of a Triwizard Champion, in short, model Wizarding citizen -- could have his rights run roughshod over, then it was a bad sign of what was brewing at the heart of the Ministry.
Worse, Tonks felt completely blindsided, as if she'd been so caught up in an exciting Quidditch match that she hadn't seen the Bludger coming till it smacked her in the face and knocked her off her broomstick, sending her spiralling toward the hard ground...Or like she'd stepped onto a cursed staircase that crumbled beneath her feet...Which was a completely stupid and unnecessary way to feel as Remus had used "the Ministry will never allow me to marry" as one of his reasons to break off their almost-engagement last summer; and she herself had asked him at their reconciliation whether she could count on him to stay even if the Ministry did try to stand between them. He had reassured her at the time, though now she wished he had given her a definitive answer than if that happened, he wouldn't encourage her to seek love from another man.
No sooner had the thought crossed her mind than her conscience lit into her like a Howler. What kind of Hufflepuff was she? How could she be so disloyal? Bill and Fleur had got married, hadn't they? That meant there was a loophole.
She was about to ask what it was, when Remus beat her to it.
"Four nights from now will be the first full moon since you applied for your marriage licence. How in the world did you convince them to issue you one before they had their so-called proof of Bill's blood status?"
"Amos Diggory," said Fleur.
"Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures came into it?" Tonks asked, shocked again, though she reckoned she oughtn't be at this point. God, how humiliating for Bill...for Remus...She still couldn't look at him...
"Meester Diggory vouched for Bill's character, and shut Umbridge up by saying 'e was sure Bill would be found truthful eef 'e were admeenistered Veritaserum."
"Which I'm sure she didn't rush to do," George said.
"Even though she didn't think twice about using it on kids," Fred muttered.
"Prejudiced great bully," spat George.
"Bitch," his twin said again, slapping his wand against his open palm.
"Of course she deedn't," said Fleur, meeting Fred's eye as if to ask permission to be a part of whatever revenge idea was forming in his brain. "And of course she 'ad ze last word as well, zat my Veela blood brings my 'uman status into question as well, and my marriage to Bill might find me standing trial for violating ze Ban on Experimental Breeding."
A tremor began in the pit of Tonks' stomach, which had balled into such a hard knot she doubted its ever loosening again. That bitch. That bigoted, bullfrog-faced bitch!
This was bad. This was very very bad. Fleur was not the first Magical Being whose humanity Dolores Umbridge had questioned. Umbridge had once intimated as much to Tonks that Metamorphmagi were not fully human, either; though she hadn't said in so many words, her belief clearly echoed what Walburga Black's portrait shrieked every time Tonks woke her by tripping over that dratted troll-foot umbrella stand at Grimmauld Place: shape-shifting freak. Tonks had been right pissed off, of course, but mainly because Umbridge had said it to ensure Tonks' compliance with a dress code for Ministry employees, which included a ban on "unnatural" hair colours. Somehow, it had never entered Tonks' wildest nightmares that her humanity might actually be called into question by the very government that employed her. She couldn't work out whether it was better or worse for her and Remus if they were both marked as undesirable species.
"No fear, Fleur," said George, slinging an arm around his sister-in-law's slim shoulders. "Umbridge'll never get anti-Veela legislation past all those male bureaucrats."
"Randy lot," Fred added, catching her round the waist. "Always thinking with organs situated rather far south of their brains."
Fleur tilted her chin upward at this, her haughty smile curving her lips.
"In that case," said Tonks, "maybe I really ought to start masquerading as your twin, Fleur. Metamorphmagi might be less suspect if we appear to be dazzlingly beautiful."
The twins supported the idea noisily, but Remus merely gave a short, grim chuckle.
"Remus," George stage-whispered, hands cupped around his mouth. "That'd be where you earn points by saying, 'You're always dazzlingly beautiful, my darling Dora'."
"You might delay patenting your Cupboard Casanova," Remus returned without missing the beat, "if you think darling's an endearment that'll earn points."
"Eef you weesh to be properly married..." said Fleur loudly (she had been looking a bit perturbed since Tonks joked about morphing like her, which made Tonks feel a little better in the midst of everything) "...zen you 'ad better do eet queekly. Meester Diggory 'as been leestening for developments, and 'e 'as seen and 'eard reports of Umbridge meeting weeth various members of Werewolf Support Services, as well as..." Her long white throat bobbed again as she glanced across the bed at Remus. "...ze Capture Unit."
Bloody hell...If that was true...It made Tonks' head spin as if she were making a Floo call to think how quickly Umbridge would institute a ban on werewolf marriage if Remus applied for a license. She clutched at her sheets, as if to physically steady herself.
"I think I might be partially to blame," she said, her own voice sounding small and distant to her ears. "I haven't been quiet about our engagement. The whole Auror office knows..."
Remus caught her hand nearest to him, prising the sweat-dampened, crumpled sheet from her grip, and kissed her knuckles.
"Nor should you have kept quiet," he said, "You have just as much right as any witch to celebrate your engagement with your colleagues."
But he spoke with a raw quality that undermined his assuring touch, making Tonks wonder whether he really believed his own words.
"Eet eez lucky you 'ave spoken of marrying soon, no?" said Fleur, cheerfully.
"Very," said Remus.
Tonks felt his gaze on her, but she could not lift her eyes to meet it.
"You could elope," George suggested. "The officiates at Gretna Green never check registries and have a strict don't ask, don't tell policy. You say 'I do,' you're bonded, and the Ministry can't do a bloody thing about it."
"'ow do you know about marriage policies in Gretna Green?" asked Fleur, and George cleared his throat and tugged at the long hair at his nape as his twin smirked.
There was a damn good story in that, but Tonks wasn't in the mood for it.
"No, the Ministry can't do a bloody thing," she said. "Only arrest you and the person who married you on the charge of circumventing the law."
A moment of thick silence followed, which George broke again by asking, "Can you be convicted for pre-emptively circumventing a law?"
Of course you could, with a government like theirs was apparently turning out to be. Tonks kept the thought to herself, though, knowing it went without saying, especially to Remus.
Except that Remus laughed.
And gave a little round of applause.
"The logic of a true Marauder," he said, extending one hand to shake George's.
"By George, George!" said Fred suddenly, as if he'd been in his own world for some time. "I think you're on to a new business model."
George met his twin's eyes with a gleam.
"Weasleys' Wizard Weddings!" they cried together.
"Only you'd never keep afloat," came a jocular voice that had not previously been a part of the conversation.
They all turned to see Bill stood casually in the opening between the curtains, hands shoved deep into the pockets of his tatty jeans -- he must have the day off from Gringotts -- Ginny and Molly peering around his athletic frame. Shrieking his name, Fleur leapt up from her chair, threw herself into his arms, and, slipping her hands inside his dragonhide jacket, stretched up to kiss him.
"One wedding," Bill went on, as Fleur kissed his neck, "then word would get out about the bridal cake laced with U No Poo, and you'd never get another request. Or would the Wheeze be worth a one-off?"
"For the millionth time--" cried Fred.
"--that wasn't us!" George finished.
"Wish it had been--"
"--but it wasn't!"
"It's ridiculous to lie about it," said Molly, pushing her way past Bill into the midst of the group (somehow managing as she did so to dislodge Fleur from his arms, putting a stop to her kissing his pierced earlobe). "It doesn't take a person with a complete set of owls to know the pair of you are guilty as sin."
Tonks glimpsed Ginny sniggering behind her hand, but also caught her darting her eyes almost guiltily at her twin brothers, which made her wonder if they weren't telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth so help them Merlin, after all.
Molly went on about how after all this time they would feel an ounce of remorse, and if they still lived under her roof she'd turn them over her knee before turning them out, which made them even more vehement in their protests, especially as Fleur turned on them, her temper now channelled into the state of newlywed constipation she'd found herself in the morning after her wedding. Remus unhelpfully told no one in particular (and irritated everyone) that he had been spared that fate by only eating the groom's chocolate cake.
"Anyway, Remus and Tonks can't elope," Molly brought the conversation full-circle. "I'm sure her parents want to have a big proper wedding for them, and Tonks, dear, I gave your mother the names of all the people we used -- only I think you may have to book another band, as they told me I was very lucky to get them less than a year in advance."
"I was hoping to get the Weird Sisters, anyway," said Tonks.
"Elopement sounds better all the time," said Remus with a mock-grimace that matched Molly's genuine one.
Squeezing Tonks' hand before releasing it, he rose from his chair and wove his way between the visitors to approach Bill.
"A word, Bill?" he asked quietly, his face grave as they shook hands.
Everyone paired up, Bill and Remus talking in hushed tones, presumably about the escalating anti-werewolf sentiment; the twins, flitting between animated plotting about Weasleys' Wizard Weddings and giving Umbridge her just desserts; Molly and Fleur about weddings, apparently forgetting all about Tonks as Fleur took out her album again.
"'Lo, Tonks," said Ginny, approaching. She fished in her pocket and took out a bag of Chocoballs. "Brought you these."
"Ta." Tonks hesitated before accepting them. "They're not laced with U No Poo, are they?"
"I wouldn't do that to you in hospital." Ginny's grin faded. "It really stinks about your leg. Are you really not allowed to morph?"
"Pink's not my natural colour, you know."
Ginny's eyebrows buckled as her forehead creased. "You're not pink."
"What?"
Tonks scrabbled for her makeup bag in the bedside table and struggled to flip her compact open with her shaking hands. When she finally managed it, she saw her reflection and cursed.
In her peripheral, she saw Remus' eyes drift from Bill to her. She scrunched up her nose, and her lank brown hair bloomed pink and stood on end again.
"So..." she said as brightly as she could to Ginny whilst wondering when the hell during the talk with Fleur she'd lost her morph, and trying to recall Remus' facial expressions throughout in case he'd reacted. Unfortunately, she hadn't looked at him much. "Fleur says you're off school shopping after this?"
"Yeah."
"You don't like school shopping?"
"Not with Mum treating me like I'm three and Phlegm--" Ginny caught herself, and, clearly making a concerted effort at being nice to the witch who'd proved to have more depth than she imagined, said, "It's more fun with Ron and Hermione...and Harry, too," she added, quickly. Too quickly.
"Especially Harry," Tonks couldn't resist saying.
Colouring, Ginny gave a little smile, then said, "Hermione said to say hi, by the way, and they'll come to see you if she can work out a way around the Age Line Mum did to keep that lot from sneaking out the house."
"Hermione's clever," whispered George, "but Fred and I tried everything known to Wizardkind to get past the one to the Goblet of Fire, and if we can't--"
"Dumbledore's Age Lines and Mum's are hardly the same thing, don't you think?" Ginny argued, effectively shutting the twins up.
"Hermione's turning into a right rebel, isn't she?" said Tonks.
"Well it is rather a prerequisite for joining the Order," said Ginny.
"That it is."
Tonks knew from the almost hungry look in Ginny's eyes what this was working up to. The teenager knew what she wanted and had planned and carefully rehearsed that speech. Which meant Tonks had to think much faster on her feet than was right for a person taking as many pain potions as she was.
"Look, Ginny," she said with a sigh, "I'm not a mum, so I'm not going to tell yours she should let you drop out of school and join--"
"I'll go to school!" Ginny cut in. "It's just...Well, if sodding Malfoy can go to school and be a Death Eater, shouldn't we try and even up the sides?"
Though Tonks saw her teenaged self in Ginny, and actually quite agreed with the sentiment, at least on the raw emotional level, she said, "If Malfoy turns up at Platform Nine and Three-quarters on the first of September, you can bet your buttocks the Aurors'll be escorting him to Azkaban for the rest of his education."
For the first time, she was thankful to see Healer Pye striding through the ward, whistling, as he'd saved her from the rock and a hard place Ginny had put her in. Even more wonderfully, she didn't have to eat humble pie, as she would get the satisfaction of feasting on the image of him falling victim to a Weasley Wheeze with a side of Moony Mischief.
Not that humble was exactly the operative word when Pye was stopping at the doorway, chest puffed out as he buffed his Internospecs on the lapel of his lime green robes, and doing his best to give Percy Weasley a run for his money for Bighead Bastard, First Class.
"Well, well," he said. "If it isn't practically the entire Weasley family."
"It isn't," said Bill, looking as unimpressed as Tonks imagined he would if it actually was Percy who'd just come in. "It's only practically half the Weasley family."
"Which you'd know if you were old enough to actually have delivered any of the Weasley family," Molly added.
Pye's smug smile became wooden as he quickly put on his Internospecs and gestured for Ginny to step aside from Tonks' bed so the Healer could do his work. "Let's have a look at that knee, shall we?"
As he drew the blankets back, he glanced over his shoulder at Molly. Tonks guessed he missed twins exchange the glance of two people responsible for a man's impending doom as he said, "Though I am terribly sorry it comes at your expense, Miss Tonks, I cannot say that I am not most pleased for this opportunity to set the record straight for Mrs. Weasley about my qualifications--Oh dear God!"
He nearly lost his Internospecs in the process of jerking erect and backing into Remus, apparently startled by the sight of Tonks' knee.
Remus laid a hand on Pye's shoulder, which made him jump again, and spoke in the perfect concerned tone a witch's fiancé ought to have in such a situation. "Oh dear God what?"
"N-n-n..." Pye shook his head vigorously. "N-nothing wrong."
He rubbed the Internospecs on his robes, held them up to the light to inspect the lenses, put them on again, blinked, then, drawing a deep breath, bent over Tonks once more.
"Working back-to-back shifts," he said, "as Healers do, often has the affect of making one see--BLOODY HELL!"
He recoiled, this time ripping off the Internospects of his own volition and flinging them away as if through them he'd viewed the stuff of his worst nightmares.
"What's wrong with my knee?" Tonks shouted in the best panicky voice she could muster even though she thought she might die from trying not to laugh.
Molly didn't help matters any by pushing her way to the front of the group, hands fisted on her ample hips, face red as her hair and her eyes flashing, pinning Pye as surely as she'd cast Petrificus Totalis on him. "What in Merlin's name of you done to this poor girl?"
"I did-d-dunno!"
"I say," said Remus, who, Tonks saw on looking up, had retrieved the Internospecs and donned them to take a look at her knee himself, "I'm no expert, but isn't that a Hippogriff patella?"
Molly roared. "YOU'VE MUTATED TONKS' KNEE?"
She lunged toward Pye, as if to grab him by his robes, but he jumped backward from her.
"Nn-o! I-I-I m-mean, it ap-ap-ap-pears--"
"It was that physio...physiothingy--"
"Physical therapy--"
"DON'T INTERRUPT ME! Your Muggle medical nonsense is responsible, isn't it?"
"No!"
"ISN'T IT?"
CRASH.
Molly had, quite literally, backed Healer Pye into a corner. Which, in this case, happened to be the corner of a bedside table where Remus had placed his vase of gerberas. Only now they were on the floor, water, shattered green glass, and a rainbow of petals littering the white marble tiles.
"Why of all the clumsy--!" Molly gave her wand a flick. "Evanesco!"
Biting her lip, Tonks glanced up at Remus for his reaction to the destruction of his second attempt at bringing her flowers. He'd removed the Internospecs, and she saw his eyelids squeeze shut briefly before they snapped open again at the sound of a strangled wail emanating from Pye's throat.
"Oh God!" His legs buckled, but fortunately Remus reacted quickly and nudged a chair under him so that Pye collapsed onto it. "It never occurred to me that physical therapy might lead to spontaneous shifts in M-m-m-meta-m-m-m--"
"Metamorphosing?" Tonks supplied.
"Yes."
"You can just say morphing," she said. "S'a lot easier."
But somehow, her compassion only seemed to heighten Pye's distress. "I never thought to factor in your emotional state, even though your parents and Mr. Lupin mentioned in your medical history that it affected your morphing...Oh, God!" He covered his face with his hands and began to shake. "I shall be sacked! I should have gone into Muggle medicine, like my gran wanted me to. Too fickle, Magical healing, she always said--"
"Great Merlin!" cried Molly, her plump features etched with warring disgust and sorrow. "How can you be worried about your career when you've cost this young woman hers?"
She flew to Tonks side, rather roughly sliding an arm around her shoulders, making her wince as she squeezed her close.
"She's an Auror!" Molly carried on. "At a time like this, we can't have enough good Aurors! And she's going to be married!"
Even if Pye had not broken down sobbing, Tonks would have taken pity on him.
"You haven't ruined my career, Augustus," she said.
"Oh, Tonks," said Molly, eyes brimming. "You're the most forgiving person I've ever known, but--"
"Lads?" Tonks said over her, looking at the twins, who were shaking hands and clapping shoulders and congratulating one another. "Jig's up. Remus, please give the man his Internospecs."
Pye's blotchy, tear-stained face peered from between his hands. "I beg your pardon," he said, sniffling. "Did you just say jig?"
"Put those Internospecs on and have a look at your own knee," Tonks said.
Pye obeyed.
His fair eyebrows twitched together above the rims in clear confusion.
His mouth fell open.
His head snapped up. "I've got a bloody Hippogriff's knee, too!"
Face reddening, he whipped off the Internospecs and leapt rather clumsily to his feet, narrowly avoiding knocking over Fleur's carnations. "Miss Tonks, that is the nastiest trick--"
"It wasn't Tonks," Remus interrupted quietly.
Missing the way Remus' head hung a little, his eyes peering sheepishly out from under his fringe, Molly's hands fell away from Tonks and flew once again to her hips. "FRED!"
"He's Fred!" said George.
"GEORGE!"
"He's George!" said Fred. "Won't you ever learn, woman?"
"You ought to be shouting my name as well," said Remus, reaching out as if to hold Molly back from physically attacking her sons.
"You don't have to stand up for them, Remus." She shrugged him off and bore down on them, seeming to tower over them even though they were a full head taller. "They're grown wizards. Businesswizards. They can look out for themselves."
"Yeah," said George with bravado, even though he was backing away from his mother. It was a good job there were no tables of flowers behind. "You were just the diversion anyway, Remus."
"And right now," Fred added, side-stepping Fleur, shoving her between his mother and himself as he and George made for the gap in the curtains, "we hope you'll divert Mum from our exit."
"DON'T YOU DARE LEAVE! I'M STILL YOUR MOTHER, AND I'M NOT FINISHED WITH YOU! IN FACT, I'M ONLY JUST GETTING START--"
"Silencio!" said Pye.
The words hung, muted, in Molly's wide-open mouth.
Ginny, who'd been watching the whole scene through eyes three-quarters of the way closed in laughter, snorted, earning a baleful look from Molly, though doubled over as she was, Tonks doubted Ginny saw it.
"Your twins," said Pye to Molly, tugging on his lapels, "are hereby banned from darkening the door of this institution, except in the case of personal injury, and if you wish to continue to visit Miss Tonks during her stay here, you will please lower your voice and be mindful that she is not the only patient here."
Molly's mouth formed the shapes of words which, uttered aloud, Tonks suspected would have been neither low-toned or mindful of anyone, especially those who were offended by certain language. Producing no sound, Molly wilted and gave a slow, nod of begrudging consent.
"Right," said Pye, and gave his wand a flick. After Molly squeaked out an apology for the twins' prank, and he bestowed his forgiveness on her with a pompous comment that he was found of a bit of scullduggery himself and liked the Muggle magic tricks the twins sold at their shop, and therefore thought them decent chaps, even if they were Hogwarts drop-outs, then excused himself to fetch his real Internospecs which, Remus informed him, were in his office.
"And to change his underpants," said Ginny when Pye had gone, "as he wet himself."
"Ginny!" Molly shrieked. "What's got into you?" She turned on Remus, wagging her index finger. "And you! Were you really in on that?"
"I was."
Looking faintly pale, Molly clutched at her hair. "I thought you were sensible."
Remus smiled and seemed about to speak, when Bill, perched on the arm of a chair with Fleur sat on his lap, one freckled arm slung around her waist, said, "Haven't you heard the Boggart story, Mum?"
Tonks had heard the anecdote a million times since Remus told it to her on their first date, and had never imagined a day would come that she would not laugh her head off. Today, however, she found the story had lost a great deal of its lustre in light of certain actions carried out by one of the central characters. If she wasn't reading too much in to Remus' slightly tight voice and smile as he told it now, he shared her feeling.
Even though Dumbledore had left the Order a Pensieve containing a few silver strands of memory that proved Snape had acted on orders from Dumbledore (though not, in any way, enough pieces of the puzzle for the Order to discern Dumbledore's plan) it was too easy to believe that the man who had never shown an ounce of love for the Order, it's Cause, or even its leader, had been able to carry out his duty specifically because of the malice polluting his heart. If he had a heart at all. It seemed impossible that that could have been the only way...
She wished Dumbledore had felt at liberty to confide in one other member, at least. Looking at Remus, his face lined with conflict as he made light conversation with the Weasleys, Tonks hoped he would not have to make the same decisions Dumbledore had been forced to make for the greater good, and if he did, she hoped he would lean on her, and not try to shoulder the burden alone -- as her hospitalisation had forced him to do this week.
As if she weren't already painfully aware of the totally crap timing of her accident, Healer Pye returned. The Weasleys said their goodbyes, Molly promising they'd get their heart-to-heart soon, though casting Pye a look which said she wasn't keen to set herself up for another encounter with him. Tonks, of course, ached at the prospect of not having that opportunity with Molly in the next day or two, though it was far outweighed by her yearning for a heart-to-heart with Remus.
Right now.
They hadn't time to waste. They had so much work to do. Making contact with Snape must be the Order's new priority, and Tonks had to convince Remus, now in spite of the grim prognosis for her morphing, that she was the witch for the job.
At the very least, they needed to sort this wedding business out once and for all. It seemed more urgent as she watched minute after minute tick by on her Weird Sisters cuckoo clock as Remus chatted pleasantly with Pye, apparently in no hurry at all for the examination to end so he could have alone time with her. He must not feel what she felt...The news from Fleur must have given him second thoughts...
She was being stupid, she told herself savagely. Not least of all because with their history, it would have to be a lot higher number than second thoughts. And also because Remus was just being nice. This was completely normal behaviour for him when atoning for a bit of mischief; he was letting Pye feel buttered up when really Remus was laughing at the Healer's pompousness. He was just doing it because he was Remus, not because he was trying to distract her from serious matters, but because he really did believe laughter was the best medicine. That was all.
She convinced herself of this--
--until she actually found herself alone with Remus.
"Well," he said, smiling mildly down at her as he stood beside her bed, hands clasped behind his back. "The spells for your knee seem straight-forward enough, and I have always been a dab hand at healing magic."
"Don't see why I've got to spend three bloody more days here when you can look after me now. Pye's hardly doing more, except for annoying me."
"He is also giving you pain potions which would be highly illegal for me to administer to you at home." Remus' gaze drifted from her to the drawn curtains of her little room as he raked a hand through his thick, greying hair. "I'm sorry our little prank got Fred and George banned from visiting again."
"Doubt they'd have had time anyway," said Tonks with a shrug. "Hard to get away from the shop. Everyone's got too much to do without giving up precious time coming to hospital."
Remus' brow furrowed as he seated himself at her bedside. "I've done nearly all I can for now, so I really do anticipate being able to spend a great deal more time here, with you."
Tonks sighed. Of course he'd taken her complaints as criticism of him, when really she'd just been trying, awkwardly, to broach important matters.
"Maybe we ought to owl one of those officiates from Gretna about coming down and marrying us, then."
Remus blinked, and Tonks squeezed her eyes shut and gritted her teeth against a few unladylike words. "I'm sorry, Remus, I didn't mean--"
"It's okay," he said, taking her hand. "Fleur has a way of pounding ideas into a person's head. And...I'm not opposed to the idea of marrying you soon, you know."
Tonks gawped. "Really?"
She silently cursed herself again for voicing her astonishment. It would make him feel even worse, make him think she didn't trust him...
But his mouth curved into his sexy, lopsided grin as he leant toward her, fringe falling over his forehead. "Well, I don't like the thought of marrying you right here with you in a bed I can't share on our wedding night..."
He brushed his lips to hers, and Tonks felt heat crackling in the little space between them at the thought of their wedding night...Or any night with him...God, she thought as his fingers trailed over her neck, cupping her cheek, it had been much too long. Why couldn't he share this bed with her? There wasn't a reason in the world why they couldn't do a few useful little spells and practice their wedding night right now...
As if he'd read her thoughts, Remus broke away. The tension remained, though it shifted from the sexy kind to the serious kind.
"It does rather seem that we have little choice but to act before Umbridge does, or wait for a change in the political climate," Remus said. He paused, eyes darkening as the lines of his face hardened, then he added, "Which I would be willing to do, as marrying me could make things hairy for you at the Ministry."
Tonks started to argue that she wouldn't be willing, that she wanted him and not the damn Ministry, when the protest died on her tongue.
Remus wasn't just trying to protect her from losing the job she'd worked so hard for; the Order needed her at the Ministry, especially in the current political climate which, if Umbridge did get her way, was frighteningly in line with Voldemort's philosophies.
Sinking back against her pillows, suddenly bone-tired, Tonks' stomach churned with the idea that this concept of a greater good seemed determined to disrupt her life even though Remus wasn't acting the part of the noble prat. If a little more love in the world were necessary for achieving the greater good, why didn't the greater good help them out a bit by fostering their relationship?
"I can't believe Bill didn't say anything to us sooner," she mused. "We might be married already, instead of considering a quickie ceremony in hospital..."
"Our friends, it seems, are quite as protective of our relationship as I am of you."
The rueful, almost bitter, smile he wore chilled Tonks to the core. No -- Remus couldn't go there. She'd fought too hard to bring him back from that awful place of shame and failure Dumbledore had, unintentionally, sent him to when he asked him to go underground. No way in hell was he going back there again. Not if she had anything to say about it.
"I'm sure he was thinking more about not worrying Molly than--" She caught herself, not knowing how to continue, but Remus spoke for her:
"Than about fearing I would leave you again if I knew how bad things looked for us?"
Tonks' eyes flicked down to her lap as hot colour flooded her face.
"What else am I to think?" he asked. "Fleur intimated as much, and Bill said he'd meant to tell me when I didn't have so much on my mind."
"I'm sure he meant your Order responsibilities," Tonks said, though without much conviction, hating the thought that Remus had been made to feel like an deviant youth whom everyone feared would go astray again, like a prisoner who must be watched carefully, with suspicion, until he proved himself reformed and trustworthy. It was bad enough that he sensed her doubts and insecurities; this was nothing to do with anyone else.
"Of course he did," said Remus, heavily, though in a voice closer to his usual mild tones. "I know we have all our friends' full support, and none of them means anything malicious by holding their breaths till I've actually got a wedding ring on my finger, but..." He sighed. "My Order responsibilities are part of the problem."
Feeling a bit like she'd missed a crucial bit of his train of thought, Tonks asked, "The problem?"
Clutching her hand in both of his, Remus sat hunched in his chair, looking her fully in the eyes so that she could see he had much to say to her, and sincerely wanted to say it.
But he didn't say a thing.
Nor, after a full minute had passed during which the air in the room became more stifling with every tick of the clock, did he seem like he was going to any time soon.
"Remus..." She shifted so that she could touch his face with her other hand. "Talk to me. Please."
"I..." His Adam's apple bobbed. "Dora, I don't think I can--"
"Remus?" came a third, muffled voice.
Remus jumped, and Tonks said, "What the...?" but stopped when he drew his two-way mirror out of his pocket.
"Harry," he said, very quietly, getting up. "One moment."
With his wand, he drew the curtains closed, cast a Muffliato, then settled on the bed, close beside Tonks so that she could see the mirror cupped in his palm.
"Sorry," Remus told the young man. "I'm at St. Mungo's with Tonks."
"Wotcher, Harry."
"Hi," said Harry, colouring a little at the sight of her and glancing at Remus. "I, um, didn't mean to, er, interrupt...or anything..."
"Not at all," said Remus, smiling kindly. "What can I do for you?"
Harry licked his lips, hesitating. Tonks recognised the look on his face of as uncertainty whether he could say what he wished to say.
Remus, apparently, did, too. "It's all right -- I will not ask for more information than you offer."
"Oh, it's just I wondered if you knew someone," said Harry, attempting, but not quite managing, to sound casual. He shrugged, his shoulders moving as if he'd shoved a hand into his pocket. "Do the initials R.A.B. ring a bell?"
"R.A.B?" Remus repeated.
"Rodolphus And Bellatrix," Tonks threw out, then began a run-down of all the B surnames she knew, starting with the Ministry employee roster. "Bagman, Bones, Bode--Stupid!" She smacked herself in the forehead, startling Remus and Harry. "Bloody pain potions. Black always tops the Ministry name game."
"Regulus," said Remus. "Regulus Arcturus Black."
"Sirius' brother?" Harry asked. "The one who deserted the Death Eaters and--?"
"Was killed, yes," said Remus.
"He fits!" cried Harry, looking as if a Lumos charm had just gone off in his head. The view of the Burrow in the background shifted as he turned, presumably toward Ron and Hermione.
"What does Regulus fit?" Tonks blurted.
"Dora," said Remus, touching her arm.
Harry gave him an apologetic look, or at least that was Tonks' best guess with his image bobbing up and down in the mirror as he ran about the house. "Sorry, I can't talk about it right now. We've got to get to Grimmauld Place."
"Harry, the Age Line!" came Hermione's voice.
Stopping short, flailing as the lanky form of Ron, at his heels, collided with his back, Harry swore.
"Even if you could get out," said Remus, "you couldn't get into Grimmauld Place."
"Why the hell not?" asked Ron, looming over Harry to peer into the mirror.
Remus explained how, when Dumbledore died, the Fidelus Charm passed into Aberforth's keeping, and until he granted entrance to the Order again, none of them could enter Headquarters."
"Not even Harry?" Ron asked. "I mean, he does own the hellhole."
"Not even Harry," said Remus. Running a hand over his stubbled chin, he said, "It's one of the many frustrations I've had this week. Aberforth is grieving his brother, despairing for the Order's future, and fearful of a plot against his own life, should anyone discover he is our Secret-Keeper. I'll talk to him again, Harry, if you think there's something you need in Headquarters, but we did clean it out pretty thoroughly after Sirius--"
"You wouldn't have cleaned this out," said Harry.
"Yeah," said Ron. "You lot pitched it into the rubbish--"
"RONALD!" Hermione shouted, as Harry's elbow rammed Ron in the ribs.
"All right," said Remus. "I--"
"While you're throwing your Order leader weight around," said Ron, snatching the mirror from Harry, "talking goat-loving barmen into letting the Chosen One into his own bloody house, could you have a word with a red-headed female member about not treating certain other Order members like children just because they're her children -- especially the ones that aren't actually her children?"
Grinning at Tonks, Remus said, "I think I followed that."
"Even better," said Ron, "just pop over and get us across the Age Line. We can leave with anyone over forty."
Remus gave a snort of mild irritation. "I hate to break it to you, Ron, but I'm a mere thirty-seven."
"Bloody..." Ron went red and thrust the mirror into Harry's hands again.
"So," said Harry, scratching his head where the hair stuck up in back, looking a little uncomfortable. Tonks wondered if he had ever been quite aware of Remus' and Sirius' ages. "You'll speak to Aberforth and Mrs. Weasley, then?"
Remus nodded. "I take it that it is imperative I do so immediately?"
Harry's green eyes flicked guiltily to Tonks. "It'll take us one step closer to Voldemort."
"He'll be right with you, Harry," said Tonks, nudging Remus. "Go on, then."
The mirror had returned to normal, reflecting Remus' lined face. He looked as if it pained him to leave as much as she hurt to have him leave again, without her. She thought he might look as if he didn't really want to go, and wished he didn't have to. He didn't look like he had the energy to do battle with Molly and Aberforth.
"Dora, I'm sorry," he said, leaning in to kiss her.
Despite the longing she felt in him, answered in her own body, as his lips melted against hers, Tonks restrained herself and only returned the kiss with a lpeck, then drew back, giving him another light shove. "Don't apologise, you noble great prat. Just go. Harry Potter needs you."
"I'll keep in touch," he said, pressing his mirror into her hands.
"Be sure to pick up your potion before Mr. Yuhong closes shop," she called as he slipped through the curtains.
Then he was gone, and Tonks was left to wonder alone what was going to bring them one step closer to victory over Voldemort.
Only instead, she wondered what on earth Remus had been about to say he didn't think he could do.
She was drifting off to sleep that night when Remus contacted her. His face, which seemed to have aged years in the hours since his hasty departure, made her gasp, but she stopped herself from asking whether he'd remembered his potion, because she knew he'd forgone it to help Harry, knew, from his bright and alert eyes that something had happened to push all memory of lycanthropy and potions clean out of his head.
"I can't talk long, Dora," he said. "I'm sorry, but I've got to go on the road."
"Where?"
"I'll explain everything in due course," he said. "It's all so extraordinary... You'll never believe..."
"What?"
"Well, all right," said Remus willingly -- eagerly. "The gist of it is: before Regulus deserted, he discovered the secret of Voldemort's immortality."
"Merlin's balls!"
"And according to Kreacher," he continued, "Regulus...did not die."
To be continued...
A/N: I'd love to know what you think of this chapter, and as incentive to review (and in a plea to you not to kill me for that evil cliffie), I offer a visit from your choice of Remus: Romantic Remus, who comes bearing flowers; Marauder Remus, who billed the flowers to someone else and plans to entertain you with a prank; or Sex God Remus, who knows what to do in a hospital bed...
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